A morbid kind of amusement
by thefudge is grumpy
Summary: Written before 6x07. "I'd never beg."


_(originally posted on tumblr.)_

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><p><strong>A morbid kind of amusement<strong>

"Save your strength for when I get out of here," she pants, the spite in her voice not quite as palpable as before. Bonnie leans against the stairway, trying to hide her body's exhaustion behind a crumbling bravado.

He is no better. Kai is kneeling on the floor, sweat pouring down his face.

For some hours, they have been chasing through town, she pushing him away with her magic, he trying to steal it. They have both caused each other enough pain to last them for days, but the way he is smirking now, madly, hopelessly, she thinks he may have one more chase in him.

"For you, I have all the strength in the world," he replies, and his voice is coated with anger and …_joy_?

Perhaps a morbid kind of amusement.

Bonnie curses under her breath. She wants solitude and darkness, she wants to be able to close her eyes without constantly fearing he would be standing right behind her.

It has been too _long_ with only his sickening presence, only his rotting soul for company.

"_Fine_. Then I want to save _my_ strength. Just for five goddamn minutes, do you think you could stop? Do you think you could do that?" she barks, feeling the rage and despair bubbling up inside her, threatening to spill out.

Kai looks down at his watch and taps it playfully with his fingers. He is smiling in that "gentle psychopathic" way she has come to associate with him. Not quite unhinged, but close enough to make her shudder.

"Five minutes on the clock."

For some moments, they rest. He rolls down on his back and stares up at the boardhouse ceiling and she rests her head against the wall behind her.

But it does not last for long.

He gets up and struts towards her.

"What are you doing? I said five minutes without attacking me."

"Yeah, I got that, _Bon Bon_."

Bonnie steps back, her muscles tense once again. Of course he can't keep a simple promise; he's a child, a deranged murderous _child_.

"Ah, ah. No need to get all defensive. Won't touch you."

He is close to her now, too close. The space between them has shrunk to a step and she knows she should probably put more distance between them because the air has grown taut with that thick tension that always follows their more intense encounters.

Her magic and his hunger seem to be two opposing, yet identical forces that, when joined together, wreak havoc and chaos. And neither can control where that chaos will take them.

But she is too tired to move and the wall behind her is a welcome comfort. For days now she has been running. _Five minutes_.

He places both palms on the wall, encasing her in his arms.

"Not with my hands anyway," he adds as an afterthought.

Bonnie balks. For a terrifying and absurd moment, she thinks he is going to kiss her, because his face is leaning down towards her and his lips seem to hover over her mouth, but he is anything but a romantic.

At the last moment, he veers south and his breath falls on her neck.

And then, he licks. He licks the skin of her neck. From her collarbone to her chin. Slowly, methodically. His tongue rough and wet.

Bonnie opens her mouth, but what comes out is a strangled shriek. She can't touch him because she knows what will happen.

It ends as quickly as it begins and little magic is transferred between them.

It's not painful. There will be no blood. No mark. But it feels like a pinch, like a scar inflicted by a vengeful feline.

He licks his lips and raises his head with an apologetic grin.

"Sorry. I've always wanted to do that. Nothing personal, but your skin looks fucking delicious."

Bonnie wrinkles her nose in disgust, but doesn't move to wipe away the saliva. She's too shocked, too caught off-guard.

"It's got that tangy sour-sweet taste I thought it would. Witches, you know, taste like the salt of the earth."

Bonnie throws him a questioning look.

"Yeah, I've tasted others. But they weren't - you know - _breathing_ when I did that. You couldn't feel the erratic pulse under your tongue. Couldn't really taste the sweat, the _life_ in them," he rambles on, impervious to her disgust and discomfort.

"Luckily, though, I haven't killed you yet."

"But you want to," she retorts with obvious revulsion.

He pauses, struggling for the right words.

"Sure. Someday. When you're so sick of it all that you're begging for it. But right now? I just want to taste you again."

They stare at each other for a moment or two, almost as if they are contemplating what that would be like.

"I'd never beg," she says at length, breaking the silence.

Kai smiles, but it's not entirely "gently psychotic".

She looks down at his watch.

"Time's up?"

Kai frowns, as if she interrupted an important thought.

"Yeah. Time's up," he confirms absently.

_Good_. She is relieved.

She'd rather they chase forever, than get caught like this.

She is out of his sight before he can grab her. But his tongue on her skin lingers throughout the day.


End file.
